


Debris

by Gonzolidation



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Forced to enjoy it, Helplessness, Impregnation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Tentacles, Used as a Breeder, Village lets Symbiotic Tentacle Monster Noncon Human Sacrifice, Xeno, Xenophilia, rapid pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gonzolidation/pseuds/Gonzolidation
Summary: Every season, the village selects its Offering to the Keeper that lives deep in the surrounding jungle. This season, Jezica has become that Offering.





	Debris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [praxyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/praxyn/gifts).



> There is a bit of sci-fi background here to set the scene, but most of this story is for the naughty bits and associated trappings.

No one had suspected that one of the objects trailing Earth in its orbit around the Sun might be alive. The scientists that had discovered the object noted its dimensions, assigned it a series of letters and numbers, and left it in one of the catalogues of the heavens as a curiosity, no different from all of the other debris that had been encountered since humanity first started looking at space through artificial eyes.

Until the day that a flare from the Sun heated the object up and resurrected it, causing it to emit a cloud of spores that descended to Earth and changed everything.

Each spore that encountered the atmosphere instantly hatched into a monster that no language had the terms to describe, thriving upon the mixture of gases and expanding to impossible size before landing upon a human city and consuming it. Thousands of years of civilization disappeared in thirty days, and Earth reverted to a primeval state, wilderness reclaiming the ruins of humanity as the monsters settled into their niches and made themselves fat upon all that remained of the species they had destroyed.

And yet humanity never managed to fully disappear from the planet it had lost.

Each monster claimed a certain territory, and humans continued to live in the spaces between those territories, cobbling together a meager existence that recalled their origins, reverting to tribes that survived through hunting and gathering, occasionally supplemented by a crude agriculture derived from the altered ecosystems that the monsters had created simply by existing. From time to time, enough humans banded together to form the basics of a state, but those faced doom at the hands of a monster any time the boundaries between the beasts and their territories changed.

As centuries passed, several human communities became tributaries, learning how to make offerings to the monsters in order to pacify them for brief periods of time ....

* * * *

The Keeper had sustained the village for eighty-two years. According to the history that the Council had promulgated, the founders had discovered that its excretions had promoted the rise of the deep and fertile jungle around it, leading to good hunting and foraging, and they had made their first Offering to it to appease it long enough for them to settle and take advantage of its bounty. After that, the Offerings had become regular, and a long tradition had developed around them, leading to decades of prosperity.

Jezica had been told that she had been selected as the Offering for the season because her name had been pulled from a box of candidates encompassing every family in the community, but she had no illusions about that. Her family had not been able to pay adequate tribute to the Council due to her mother falling ill and becoming unable to join any of the foraging parties, and the Council had accepted her life as compensation for the food that her family had failed to contribute to the public good.

It did not escape the notice of Jezica that most of the food that the village foraged ended up in the hands of the Council and the major families that sent representatives to it. Nor did it escape her notice that the 'public good' seemed to mean the good of that relatively small group of people. But she had no right to raise her voice about that.

The cart in which she had been made to ride came to a stop, and its handlers picked her up by the bindings on her hands and feet before depositing her on the ground and departing. None of them said anything. None of them had said anything since her name had come up. She had been dressed in a white smock, blindfolded, bound, loaded up, and forgotten by the community, hauled off to become Offering to the Keeper.

Jezica controlled her breathing, doing her best to calm herself as she tried to loosen the thick ropes on her wrists. She thought back to previous Offerings, one per season, always a young woman. Granted, the Council sent others to the Keeper, normally male criminals, but the Keeper allegedly devoured those. No, the Offerings seemed to be special. They never returned, and no one spoke of them, but the Keeper did not immediately strike at them as soon as the cart left them before its grotto.

 _The grotto_. She had been told of it, but the path to it remained a secret, guarded by the Council and its thugs. According to rumors, the Keeper lived in a lake at the heart of the jungle, and it spent most of its days sleeping in a grotto located among the rocks at its most distant shore. A small expanse of flat stone served as a place for the Offerings, but the cart dared not go beyond it, lest the Keeper destroy it and eat its drivers.

Jezica did not hear any noises. Only silence. The animals of the jungle avoided the grotto, meaning that anything that reached her ears represented the movements of the Keeper. Keeping that in mind, and not panicking, she continued trying to free herself.

She managed to get her hands free by the time the Keeper appeared.

It started as a smell, so sweet as to be sickening. Lingering. Overpowering. Then, the barest stirring of the water, and a feeling of heaviness in the air. _The feeling of a predator on the hunt_. Jezica reached for the ropes around her ankles, purposely choosing not to remove her blindfold. If she looked directly at the monster, she had a good chance of freezing in place, and she had no intention of doing that.

Her movements became sluggish. Her hands and feet tingled. She realized that the scent in the air might be more than a mere scent. Nonetheless, she did her best to stay focused. Her life depended on it. But her body refused to obey, and she dropped to the ground, twitching, but unable to move. Despite that, her mind remained alert.

And her mind had no choice but to panic as soon as the first tentacle touched her, leaving a trail of hot slime on her thigh as it probed upwards, curling around her leg before its muscles locked into place and started dragging her towards the grotto.

Thoughts of escape vanished, transforming into thoughts of how to survive. The Keeper had not killed her. In fact, it almost seemed to be handling her gently. Almost.

After a moment that seemed like hours, the lone tentacle deposited her on what felt like another flat stone, but, though it relaxed its hold, it stayed wrapped around her leg. She could feel a second tentacle snaking its way under her smock, exploring her body, its slime sticking to her skin like glue as it probed her, its tip applying a soft pressure to her navel, the hollow between her breasts, her throat, as if looking for a specific place. It touched her lips, and it paused there for a second, as if thinking that might be it, but it then moved back down her body ... until it discovered the heat between her legs.

Jezica thought that she ought to be screaming, but a strange sense of calm pervaded her as the tentacle invaded her body, taking her virginity and filling her up as full as it could, as if testing her limits. The same numbness that paralyzed her body also served to remove the edge from her pain as the tentacle stretched her, and the hot slime that coated her skin also stimulated her, causing a haze of pleasure that made her nerves tingle. And yet, in spite of that pleasure, a seed of panic stirred underneath, and she found herself repeating the same questions over and over, inside her head:

_Why can't I do anything about this? Why is this happening to me?_

After what seemed like eternity, the tentacle withdrew from her, and she felt a different appendage at her entrance. Another tentacle? No, the end seemed too thick, and only all the slime the first tentacle had oozed onto her body allowed it to penetrate. Then, it started to move inside and out, and she realized that it must be a phallus, not a tentacle. Its surface had bumps on it, and those brushed against her clit, pleasuring her in spite of everything her mind told her about how wrong the whole situation was.

Minutes passed, every second dragging, until the Keeper started moving its phallus more and more quickly, and Jezica, through the haze of multiple orgasms, realized that her captor was approaching release. When it did, she could feel its seed inside her, burst after burst of it, so much that it dripped down her thighs and pooled underneath her, and it did not stop plunging into her until it had completely emptied itself. After that, it released her, withdrawing all of its tentacles, but it still left her paralyzed.

Jezica promised herself to never remove the blindfold, whether or not she could move. She had no desire to see the monster that had forced itself upon her as its Offering.

* * * *

The days blended together in the darkness. Jezica no longer had a need to eat or drink, and she theorized that the same chemicals that made the jungle flourish in the presence of the Keeper served to keep her alive. It no longer needed to paralyze her before entwining her in its tentacles and filling her full of a new batch of seed.

She had become too pregnant to move her body in any way, after all.

Jezica suspected that she had to give birth soon. Her body could not possibly hold any more than it already did, and she could feel a form moving inside her, wriggling, as if increasingly uncomfortable in her womb and eager to emerge into the outside world.

She had ample time to think upon her situation. One new Offering had to be made each season. That Offering most likely gave birth, and did not survive the process. What happened to the resulting spawn, then? That, she did not know. Perhaps it grew to maturity quickly, leaving the jungle to avoid being eaten by its parent, to find a place of its own? Her brain conjured up images of immature Keepers fighting over other grottos in distant lands, perpetuating the same cycle of sacrifice and birth in other places.

Or the existing Keeper died, its remains fertilizing the jungle as the spawn matured into a new Keeper, perpetuating the cycle in that way. That seemed likely, too.

And she told herself, more than once, that what happened after the birth ultimately did not matter, since she was unlikely to be alive to see it. That, at least, seemed rational.

So did the idea that the Keeper might coat her in its slime again before the birth, taking her pain and making it as small as possible for the event. She dreamed that it might go so far as to be painless, the numbing slime covering her from head to toe.

Or the spawn might take her with it when it left the grotto, one small tentacle holding her hand as she led it out into the world to find a new place for itself. That seemed absurd, and yet, she often found that she liked that scenario most of all.

She lay on her back, too big to move, the blindfold shielding her eyes, letting her dream of better possibilities as she waited for the birth, the only sound around her coming from the Keeper as it occasionally touched her swollen belly, the spawn inside responding in kind by pushing up against her insides. In a way, it was almost ... touching.

* * * *

The next season, her mother, after recovering, had another child, also named Jezica.

No one in the village spoke of the fate of the first Jezica.

 **END**.


End file.
